“Well Christ on a moped,” Danya said, sitting cross-legged on the bed. “Look who. Thought I fired you, Mortimer.”
“Mort,” I said.
I pulled Lucy into the room, then shut the door. Shanna had her wig off. She was back to short frizzy blond hair with the pink streak in it. She had backed away, trying to catch up to this unexpected development. And, like Lucy said or implied, she was wearing a halter that wouldn’t hold another ounce without coming apart. But it was hot as hades outside, so I didn’t think badly of her for it.
“I can see why my dad doesn’t like you,” Danya said. “You really are a maverick. And unprofessional. Who’s gonna pay for that busted chain and stuff ?”
“Not a problem,” I said. “You are.”
Danya looked past me at Lucy. “Who’s the teenybopper in the ‘fuck-me-like-crazy’ outfit?”
“Who’re you callin’ a teenybopper, Chicklet?”
“Whoa, whoa,” I said. “Let’s back up and take another run at this. Turns out we’re all on the same team here.”
“Who says?” Danya uncurled her legs and stood up. She was in lime green panties and a scoop-neck T-shirt held out in front by a couple of Texas Ruby grapefruits, or something like that.
“Me,” I said loudly, hoping to cut through the estrogen and this round-robin jealousy thing that had erupted. “Danya, this is Lucy, and she’s a lot older than either you or Shanna, so have a little respect for her age.”
“No way,” Danya said. “She’s older than me?”
“Than I,” Lucy said, no sugar-coating on the tone.
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, grammar will not be an issue right now. Right now, it’s all about truth and a dead Jo-X, and I’d like to keep it that way, so if it looks like there’s gonna be a catfight, I’m gonna pull my gun.”
“Since you obviously don’t have a gun on you,” Danya said, “I assume that means you’re gonna pull out your dick.”
Aw, jeez.
Lucy laughed. “You should,” she said to me. “Loosen things up in here. This room has got some seriously ugly knots.”
Danya looked at me and smiled. “Got yourself a live little wire there, don’cha, Mortimer?”
“Mort, and yes I do.”
“She good in bed, too?”
“I don’t know, but she’s great in a Jacuzzi and her name is Lucy and now that we’ve got the introductions and the personal stuff out of the way, let’s see if we can’t stay focused on what’s important here. Which is to try to save a couple of girls’ asses now that Jo-X turned up in an awkward location.”
“Fine,” Danya said. She sank back down on the bed and went cross-legged again, which gave me a panty frontal, not that I noticed, her being a married woman and all. Shanna sat next to her and put an arm around her waist, the other hand on a thigh, not her own.
Danya looked at Shanna. “Did you get into his place?”
“Couldn’t. Cops were totally all over it.”
“Well, hell. It was worth a try, but the guest book’s probably gone by now anyway. That’s gonna totally suck.”
“What guest book?” I asked.
Danya stared at me for a moment. “Why’re you here? I fired you.”
“Couple hours later, your dad hired me.”
She laughed. “You oughta do stand-up.”
“Turns out he wanted a maverick, too. You’d disappeared and Jo-X was in your garage. Your dad said something about the police having to operate with too many rules. He wanted an off-the-books parallel investigation going on. Which is my forte.”
“Sounds like him. When he wasn’t totally pissed at you, I think he kind of admired you.”
Next time I saw him I would have to tell him that, see if he’d kiss me on both cheeks or pull a gun.
“And,” I said, “I don’t think your dad wants our arrangement to become public knowledge, so keep it to yourself.”
“Well, hell. I’ve got CBS and NBC on speed dial.” She gave me a hard stare. “As if I want the public all over this.”
“What guest book?” I asked again.
“At Jo-X’s house in Vegas. He had a party four or five weeks ago. My dumbass sister was there and she said she signed the stupid thing. Her name is Josie, J-O-S-I-E. So now there’s her name, Josie Fairchild, right there in that book, and Jo-X dead, found in my garage—Danya Fairchild’s garage, if the police stumble across that possibility even though my actual name is Fuller. Has been all my life. How long do you think it’ll take the cops to put two and two together, drag my sister into this? And then me, and probably my dad.”
“Two and two? That’s a tough one. Could take up to a year and a half.”
Danya smiled. “Don’t let my dad hear you say that.”
“Given where Xenon was found, you’re already in this up to your neck whether you’re Fuller or Fairchild.”
“Which still doesn’t make sense, him being there. But then if my sister also gets dragged into this because she signed that book at his party, that would be an unbelievable mess.”
“Josie,” I said. “Pronounced the same as Xenon’s Jo-X. Terrific.”
“Yeah. She thought that was so cool, their names sounding the same. Maybe that’s why she started listening to him.”
“How old is she?”
“Seventeen.”
“And she went to a party at Jo-X’s place? In Vegas.”
“Uh-huh. Smart, huh? She went to a concert in Reno at the convention center and got way up front. Some girl came around halfway through the concert and gave her a pass to go backstage. Jo-X was flying out right after the concert, but he told her there was gonna be this party at his Vegas mansion in a few days and she was invited. She told Dad she wanted to go to Vegas, gave him some song and dance about staying with a girlfriend who moved down there, and, of course, he said no way. I think he may have actually said no f-ing way,
